Cold Night - Moon Knight
by ZealousZombie
Summary: This is a rather simple story I concocted to pay tribute to one of Marvel's unsung heroes, Moon Knight. Due to Ellis's recent run I've been compelled to really study the character in relation to other heroes, what place does Marc Spector have in New York City? By extension, what place do "Heroes" have in New York City?


_**Blackout - Moon Knight fanfiction**_

_A black limo drives in the dead of night._

The people of this city are ensnared by fear. They do not dare show it, they refuse to emote or show gratitude.

They're caught in the chains of cynicism, bound by the predisposition that a higher power can save them. And will save them.

Manhattan. Superhero central. Everything from bug-brains, to devil lawyers... Hell, how about a whole "fantastic" family of heroes?

Protectors of the innocent, purveyors of justice... People who show the world that they don't have to try.

That we can't control our own destiny.

As a hero you have a moral responsibility and an obligation to care for your citizens.

But when they don't care about themselves, when they stop trying, when they've given up.

It's unsettling.

The demons that pervade us often reveal the worst of humanity. And it's all but bottled up or extinguished like a flame.

Nothing's gained, nobody learns. Deterrence is a concoction of naive idealists. Heroes.

People don't know what to do under these circumstances. They think they know. They hope that they have the courage

or the strength to make the right decision...

Needless to say, there are no winners here. All that remains is pain and loss.

_Mr. Knight, has arrived_

I look out of my tinted limo window and gaze up at the building in front of me.

The urban surroundings of New York seem almost omniscient, yet unsuspecting. These are the walls that uphold the chaos. And for all the destruction and terror I've seen in this very city, the walls still stand, towering over us.

As I step out I notice how the streets remain calm, there's nothing to feel in these cold alleys. No life remains.

Criminals are docile creatures, and ever since Captain America threw his mighty shield and stuck up his phallic Avengers Tower...

The old crime died, but in its place...

It remains as an undercurrent. Those who reject idealism and act on rebellion, act on sin, maybe necessity.

They survive by not surviving; the walking contradiction of being a petty criminal in a heroic sanctuary is a cruel irony for them.

I set them free and remind them. That morally repugnant individuals need to pray for something more.

I'm a beacon, the white illuminating off my suit providing a reflection for them.

I look on and see a young man, early 20's, long jet-black hair.

Unshaven, unkempt, pervading the streets with his devil may care lifestyle.

Well, the devil does care. But he's out tonight. So you got me instead.

He's a dealer, a petty one at that. Playing the game as a pawn, a defeatist. I wish I could tell him that he has time for salvation, that he's young, that things can change.

But once you stop believing in a common good,

Once you give up. I can't save you. I can only serve as a reminder.

Selling to kids, bottom feeding off of lowlifes higher than yourself. That lack of dignity, that disregard for ambition disgusts me.

My white suit and mask sends an echo, criminals see me coming. And at first, they don't run. They think that someone this crazy has a deathwish and that in their own hubris thinks they can fulfil it.

He resists me initially, he tries to grapple me, to use those Ultimate Fighting Championship moves he imitated in high school.

I take it.

Because I can.

Once he tires, I hit back. And I do it hard.

I don't hate criminals, I can't.

But I feel no sympathy for them. It's the life they chose. And this is the life that I chose.

They call me Loony, they do have a point. I'm just a guy. I live with the spirit of an Egyptian deity.

That's a little crazy.

But I choose to act on it, I choose to embody him. By fulfilling who I now am.

The heavens smile above me

I give them what he gave to me.

They just don't know it yet.

The young man is leaking blood, his life's essence being drained from his mortal veins.

I think he's had enough.

I don't have any specific mission tonight.

I don't need one.

The Avengers take care of the big stuff.

Bug brain takes the funny guys, not exactly at his speed.

Nice kid I suppose.

Maybe I am a little crazy.

I have been diagnosed.

But I think I have a little sense about me.

I wear a suit don't I?

That's enough sense for me.

I remember as a kid I felt empty. I had everything. I had wealth, I had a family...

But I felt empty.

I was different.

I felt sad.

I didn't know why.

It didn't make sense.

Nothing's really changed.

I sit on the brink of an old New York building, derelict and forgotten - and I laugh. If The Avengers have killed crime, then this is one hell of a funeral.

I think I'll pack it in for now.


End file.
